For One More Day
by Sketched Hero
Summary: Fax. AU. AH. How do you know when you've found the person you want to spend eternity with? The answer is: you don't. Nobody knows who that perfect other half is until you've had them for what felt like a split second and lost them the next moment. Whenever I look toward the beach, toward the sea, toward the sunset, I'm reminded of what I had. And what I lost.
1. Where I Met Him

**Summary: **FAX AU AH. How do you know when you've found the person you want to spend eternity with? The answer is: you don't. Nobody knows who that perfect other half is until you've had them for what felt like a split second and lost them the next moment. Whenever I look toward the beach, toward the sea, toward the sunset, I'm reminded of what I had. And what I lost.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Maximum Ride, _its characters, plot or setting. All of that goes to the _horrible_ author James Patterson, who has created amazing characters, but writes his stories _very _poorly in my opinion… it could be his ghost writer's fault.  
**Claimer: **I do own the plot.

Please read and review. :)

**Note: **I'm warning you now that this story doesn't have a very happy ending. It is somewhat joyous, yet it's still _very _saddening at the same time.

This story is inspired by the song **It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love **by Fall Out Boy.

-Sketch the Heartbreak Girl

**For One More Day**

**Chapter One: **_**Where I Met Him**_

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

That last day – that last Saturday in February we had together was a bittersweet way to end a friendship. I knew he loved me. I knew I loved him. And he knew all of that too. All of that feeling – all of that _longing _was revealed in the one small kiss we shared.

It was as if fate gave us a taste of what we were supposed to have, but destiny came in, fast-forwarded it and took it all away. That was how it felt when he opened the door to his parents' car, sat in the backseat and stared at me with sadness filling his eyes, waving ruefully as they drove away, separating two star-crossed lovers.

Forever.

Have you ever felt like there was that one person in your life that just understood you completely? Was he or she that special someone that you felt as if you couldn't live without? Did they come onto you like the one single being that could never be replaced in your heart? Finally, did it feel as if that person stayed for far too short a time?

I think all of us have had that moment when we thought that one person, and _only_ him or her, would be the right one for us.

I have.

Even as I'm writing this, I still think back and remember the few precious moments we had in that one month together. I remember his black hair, his onyx eyes, his skinny, but still muscular figure, his emo look, his loving laugh, his husky voice... Everything about him is still clear in my mind. Like a freshly painted picture that deserves to stay on display. Not locked away in a storage room.

I still miss him.

I always wish I could see him again.

For just one more day.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

The day we met was unlike any other.

I sat on the sidewalk, a sigh leaving my lips as the rain blew all around me. I had just run away from my home, extremely furious with my father, and found a decent spot at the park. It was cold, but I didn't care. If Jeb wanted to cheat on Dr. M while Maya and I were still in the house, then so be it. I wasn't going to put up with that shit.

I was hoping that the rain would let up, but it felt as if it were just getting harder. I opted to stare down at my hands, watching as my fingers shriveled into prunes. Letting out an annoyed sigh, I rested my hands on the sidewalk and stared up, letting the droplets fall onto my face. My eyes closed and I reveled in the feel of the rain pound my face.

Seconds later, I couldn't feel the rain on my face anymore. It was still pouring onto my legs, but my face wasn't being touched. I opened my eyes slowly and noticed at there was a black umbrella looming over me. "…Eh?" I mumbled smartly, wiping my eyes free of water.

"You'll catch a cold."

That was the first time I heard his low, husky voice filled with amusement.

I shook my head around, trying to get some of the excess rain out of my blonde hair. After a few seconds, I hopped to my feet, trying to find the person who had done that courteous action for me. "Thanks," I said quietly, trying to duck under the person's umbrella.

After a moment, I saw a mess of wet black hair move under the umbrella as well. He adjusted the umbrella so that it fit over the both of us. I stared at him for a while, not even noticing that he was staring back.

It was a man – no, a teenager. Probably my age, too, I thought.

He had short, jet-black hair that fell over one eye, but it stood up all over the place, probably due to the rain. He had strong and defined cheekbones and an overallmuscular build. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a black shirt and black pants and matching _black _shoes. With a soft breath, I glanced up into the eye I could see, unobstructed by his bangs. The iris was a beautifully depressing shade of black, his eye narrowed in what looked like amusement.

Wow. He was a _really_ handsome person. (And I _never _said that about _any_one.)

Finally, I decided to spark up a conversation. "Thanks again," I told him, trying to smile though most likely failing, as my teeth were chattering with the cold. "I'm really glad you had that umbrella… If you didn't, I probably would have gotten really sick." I tried to make sure that my thanks was also heard in my voice, but it didn't work very well. I wasn't the kind of person that was good at expressing emotions.

He nodded in acknowledgement and tilted his head to the left, trying to indicate something.

"Huh?"

A soft sound came out of his mouth. It took me a second to recognize that sound as a quiet chuckle. "Let me walk you home," he suggested almost noiselessly. He then struck me as the emo/Gothic type. It made sense, seeing as he wore all black.

I licked my chapped lips and tried to decide whether or not rationality would win this fight. I reviewed the facts I knew: It was pouring rain. I had no umbrella. I was sure to catch a cold at the very least if I ran through the rain. My house was a ways away. "Sure," I ended up saying, my rational side laughing on the inside.

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. Was that supposed to be a smile? "Where do you live?"

At that moment, I realized that I was still supposed to be mad at Jeb. "Oh no… I can't go home," I moaned, clenching my fists in annoyance.

"You… can't?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I – well, you see – my dad, he's a – umm, actually –"

"Ah." He nodded, as if completely understanding what I was trying to say. "Let me guess. You're angry at your father for something that _you _had absolutely nothing to do with, and if you came home now, you'd look weak."

"No, that's not –" My voice trailed off, and I felt my eyebrows furrow. "…Actually, that's exactly what I was going to say." I stared into his eye, a little suspicious. "How'd you know that, exactly?"

He winked with his visible eye. "You're like an open book," he replied, shrugging.

I frowned, still confused. "Most people tell me they never understand my emotions, and I never understand them," I told him honestly, crossing my arms and nearly forgetting about the coldness.

"Easy to read, not to understand," he said simply. "Come on. Let's go to Starbucks and get you warmed up." He titled his head to the side again, indicating where he wanted to go.

I tugged on his black sleeve, which he hastily drew away from. "Starbucks is over there." I pointed in the opposite direction, trying not to laugh.

"…I see." He turned around and starting walking away, forcing me to catch up with him. "Any reason as to why you're so mad?" he suddenly asked, not looking at me.

With a sigh, I began explaining why I stormed out of the house. I don't know why I told a stranger all these things, but I did. I told him about the marriage between Dr. M and Jeb, not specifically saying their names, and how hard it was for them to get along anymore. I told him all about my twin sister, Maya and how we were complete opposites. I even mentioned Dr. M's adopted daughter, Ella, who I actually got along with pretty well.

The guy nodded and _hmm_'ed at all the right times, making me notice how good of a listener he was. Once I was finished with the story, we had just made it to the entrance of Starbucks.

"You wanna know what I think?" he asked quietly, opening the door for me and closing his umbrella before entering the shop.

I nodded and stood in line, shivering at how wet I was. He slid his leather jacket off and threw it over my shoulders. I began to protest, but he shook his head silently and held it open for me to slip my arms in. With a reluctant sigh, I gave up and shoved my arms into it. It was warm and actually kind of smelled nice. It smelled like a mixture of dark chocolate and… cookies? Not really what I'd expect from a guy wearing all black, but it was totally fine with me.

"Thanks," I told him, smiling wide at him.

He nodded and stepped to the counter. The lady cashier's eyes widened considerably when she glanced at him. "Um, what would you like, sir?" she managed to nearly _squeak_, twirling her red hair with one hand.

"Medium caramel macchiato," he replied with a slick smile. Flipping his hair back, he let his obsidian eyes gaze into hers, some sort of hormonal exchange going on. No wonder that cashier girl was flustered. He's got one amazing grin and two stunning eyes. (Cheesy… but true.)

The girl behind the counter nodded and did whatever cashiers do when they take an order. "Anything else, sir?" she murmured breathily.

He straightened his back and turned to me, the steely face that I noticed earlier now on. His eyes were glowing bright, so I assumed that he was beginning to have a thing for that red haired girl. "Anything you want?" he asked. "…Sweetie?"

I glanced at the cashier lady who was intensely watching him. Her focus suddenly shifted to me as he said the word _sweetie. _I guess he wasn't into her after all. Who knows? "Uh, can I have a muh-muh-medium hot chocolate?" I muttered, trying not to be intimidated by her glare.

_Smooth, Batchelder, smooth, _I thought grimly.

I heard Mr. Emo's chuckle from behind, but didn't – or more like _couldn't _– look back. The girl stared at me, but nodded, inputting my order without taking her glare off me.

"So, um, what's the, uh, cost?" I asked, patting my pants for my wallet.

The black clothed guy stepped forward and tapped my shoulder. "I'll pay."

"No, it's okay, I can –"

He shook his head. "No, no. It's my treat," he said with a chuckle.

The cashier lady's eyes went glassy again. "It's… um. $7.31," she replied, sounding almost half-retarded.

He took out a ten dollar bill and handed it to her, beginning to smile that weirdly sparkling smirk. That didn't look like a genuine smile at all, but I wouldn't really know. "Thanks," he told her as the girl returned his change. Once he put the rest of his money into his wallet, he pulled an arm around my shoulder and held me close, bringing me along to one of the empty tables of the Starbucks.

I looked up at him curiously, wondering why he was holding me against him like that.

"That red head girl has been keeping her eye on me like a lovesick dog every time I walk into this place," he explained to my unvoiced question. With an almost plastic smile, he held out my chair for me. "I was hoping she wasn't going to be working today… I'm sorry if I offended you in any way."

He had a lot of words about this girl. Interesting.

"No, I'm no offended at all," I admitted, trying not to laugh as he sat down shivering. "Thank you for paying, by the way." In all honesty, if he hadn't done that, I didn't know what I would have done. I lost my wallet. Hehe.

"As I said," he reminded, "It's my treat." He scratched the back of his head. "You didn't look like you had your wallet on you anyway."

…Stop being so damn observant, I wanted to shout. "So, I haven't seen you around here before," I realized, all the while trying to change the subject. I rested my chin on my palm as my elbow leaned on the table. "You looked my age, so I thought maybe you were a new transfer at my school."

He flashed a crooked half-smile. "Yes, I am new, actually. My parents moved here… My father has…" He paused and looked outside the window. I followed his line of vision and stared out into the street, watching the rain pound the concrete. "He has a bad sickness that couldn't be treated very well where we lived, so we came out here to California to seek medical help."

"I see…" I turned back to stare at him. He truly was a handsome man.

Lord…

I better not be falling in love – I don't even know the kid's _name!_

He then moved his face to return my look, chuckling. "Yeah." We kept eye contact for a while, not saying anything; only reveling in each other's presence. I felt like nothing could obstruct this moment… until the red head shouted,

"Caramel macchiato! Hot chocolate!"

I suddenly felt a cold shiver down my spine, but not from my drenched clothing.

He chuckled and stood up, winking at me. "Be right back… sweetie." I watched him as he walked nonchalantly toward the counter and took our drinks, not even fazed by the red head fawning over him. Once he sat back down and handed me my drink, he said, "I wish I didn't like red heads so much."

I raised an eyebrow. "You have a thing for red heads?" I took a small sip from my cup, hoping that my tongue wouldn't get burned. After a second of no real reaction, I drank a little more until my insides were beginning to warm up. Wow. I must've been really cold if I didn't screech in pain from the heat of the hot chocolate.

"Mmhm," he murmured, nodding.

"Any reason why?"

He took a large gulp from his cup and stared outside again, sighing. "I just love the color," he replied, tapping his fingers against the table. "I… don't really know why. It's just such a…" He shook his head without completing the sentence and then turned his onyx eyes back to mine. "I like blondes too, though."

I tried to stifle a giggle, but failed. "That's nice," I told him, sticking my tongue out. "I like emo guys, then."

He chuckled under his breath. "I'm not emo."

"Pfft, you kiddin' me?" I teased. "C'mon. You got the Gothic black getup and you barely say more than seven words in a sentence. You've _got _to be emo."

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes. "Oh? Well…" His voice trailed off, and he pursed his lips. "You're… blonde."

I stared at him, keeping my face solemn. "You _seriously _did _not _say that," I grumbled.

"I couldn't think of anything better to say."

"Obviously."

"That was more than seven words, by the way."

"Whatever."

"That too."

"Shut up."

He cracked a half-smile. "You're the one with less than seven words now, sweetie," he noted.

"Sh-shut up!" I exclaimed, hastily gulping down more hot chocolate. I slammed my cup on the table and growled, glaring at him. "You're one messed up little boy!"

With a husky laugh, he replied, "Then you're one messed up little girl!"

"Oh hush!"

He grinned that half-smile again. "Hmm…" His eyes bore into mine, and I tried my best to stare right back as nonchalantly as I could.

"So… Um… Err… Uh…"

"Silly girl." He shook his head, laughing, but suddenly checked his watch. "What time do you need to go? I'll walk you home," he offered, rolling his eyes.

I took out my phone and checked the time: _6:31PM. _"Right now would be nice if you don't mind," I admitted, beginning to stand up. Happily drinking more of my warm drink, I picked it up and scratched the back of my head with my free hand.

He nodded and stood up with me, putting his arm around my shoulders. "I'm glad I took you here," he said in my ear, picking up his umbrella as we left the Starbucks. Somehow, he had already finished his drink prior to getting his umbrella. I hadn't even noticed. Before the door closed, I sneaked a peek at the red head, who was fuming at the ears.

The black clothed guy opened his umbrella and shielded me under it, beginning to walk in the general direction to the park. "Where do you live?" he asked quietly, still holding me close to him.

"Umm, you can let go now," I murmured, trying not to blush.

"Oh." He pulled away, but still stayed close enough to keep me covered from the rain. "Sorry. Kinda forgot."

I tried to ignore the empty feeling from not feeling his warmth, but it was had to pull off. "It's okay," I said, staring down at the concrete.

"So… Where do you live?" he asked again.

"My house is like two blocks away from the park," I replied, trying to keep my voice light and even.

"Hmm, I see."

He was again barely speaking more than seven words, it seemed. I didn't really mind though. The silence between us was calming, even if the rain was pounding down on us.

Every once in a while I checked my phone to make sure I came home at an appropriate time. He seemed to notice this and patted my shoulder in assurance. In response, I smiled up at him, trying to laugh, though it didn't work. All I did was sneeze.

He began laughing and shook his head. I joined in the merry laughter and nudged him with my shoulder, acting as if we were best buddies having a joyful reunion. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, but…

I glanced up at him.

I would never forget eyes like those.

He smiled down at me, a full, _real _smile. I didn't notice that we had stopped walking and were now just standing in one spot, staring at each other. "So…" he murmured. "Where am I supposed to walk you?"

As realization kicked me in the ass, a blush rose over my cheeks. "Umm… Just… Follow me?" I suggested, trying my hardest not to sound mentally dysfunctional.

"Yeah."

I began walking along the sidewalk, slow enough to be shielded by His Majesty's umbrella, but fast enough to actually be productive. At this moment, neither of us were talking and it was silent… But it wasn't an awkward silence. It was a calm and relaxing silence, the kind that I almost never had at home due to fighting and misunderstandings.

"Hey?" I murmured as we crossed the street.

"…Yeah?"

I glanced up at him before continuing on the sidewalk. "What's your story?" I asked. "You're probably sick of me ranting on about my life…"

"Not really." His voice was hard and strained, and I instantly knew he didn't want to talk. "My story… isn't much."

"…I see." I touched his shoulder hesitantly, but he backed away from the contact. "Sorry…"

"No. I'm sorry. You're tryin' to help," he commented, a faint smile gracing his lips.

I giggled quietly. "You're oddly perceptive," I told him, trying my best to lighten the mood.

"Well, I tend to watch silently from the shadows," he replied, the mini smile on his lips growing to a half one. "You can learn a lot more that way."

"I can already tell we're going to be great friends," I muttered sarcastically, walking up to my front door. I stared at the wood for almost a minute before swiftly turning back to him. "Actually, I change my mind. Can we go back to Starbucks?"

"No." His voice was teasing, yet firm. He pushed me aside roughly and pressed the doorbell twice. "You, milady, are going to march up to your father and tell him that you don't care what he does anymore and then you shall march to your room, jump onto your bed and cry your heart out."

I stared at him. "What?"

He shook his head. "That was supposed to stay in my head," he said in an unapologetic voice. The smirk on his face told the truth – he was screwing around with me.

"Obviously." I felt like I was at my wit's end around this guy. He was quiet, he was talkative, he was suggestive, he was teasing, he was funny, he was solemn… In short, he was probably bipolar. But he was so different than all the boys I knew at my high school… in a good way.

He pointed at the door. "I'm gonna go." I nodded at him and stood closer to the threshold so I wouldn't get attacked by the rain droplets when I left the shield of the umbrella. "Thanks, by the way," he added, a crooked smile on his face.

"For what? Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?"

"I think you've made my day."

"…What? What do you mean?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, forget what I said. I'll see you at school," he said, shrugging and turning around to walk away.

"Yeah." I turned back to the door just as my adoptive sister raised an eyebrow. "Ella!" I exclaimed, jumping into her arms and hugging her tightly.

She returned the hug cautiously. "Who was that?" She peered out the door, but he had already become a black dot in the distance.

"A new guy at school."

"But it's the weekend," she reminded, still unsure of my answer. Ella pulled away from me and examined me curiously. "What's with the leather jacket?"

I glanced down at myself and realized that this was Mr. Emo's jacket. "Crap! I forgot he let me borrow this…" I scratched my head and took it off, hanging it on the coat hanger so I wouldn't forget to bring it to school tomorrow.

"Um, Max?" she mumbled, poking me in the shoulder. I turned around and almost bumped right into her. I stared at her, tilting my head to the side. Ella's black hair was a complete mess, and she looked like she was ready for bed – she had her blue pajamas on already!

"Uh-huh?" I waddled over to the kitchen and shivered, trying to find the heater somewhere. I drank my hot chocolate as fast as I could and then popped a cup of milk into the microwave, hoping I could sleep well for once.

"Who's… _he?_"

I let all the memories replay in my mind, trying to figure out if we had even introduced ourselves at any part of the day. "Umm…" I leaned back against the kitchen counter and focused on our conversation.

Nope. I never told him my name was Maxine Batchelder.

And he never told me he was… Um. Whoever he was.

With a shaky chuckle and a kind of reassuring look, I replied, "Ella… I have no clue."

Ella looked at me like I was crazy. "I guess we're lucky that tomorrow's Monday then," she muttered, sounding much more mature than seventeen year-old me. Oh Ella. She may only be a year younger than I am, but she's so much… smarter… brighter… thoughtful-er… mature-er…

I shook my head and yawned. "No way. Lucky plus Monday equals… It's like dividing by zero. You never do that, so you _never _put the words 'lucky' and 'Monday' together unless it's something like, 'We're _not _lucky that it's Monday tomorrow.' Or something."

"You're so bad at getting your point across," Ella sighed, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Hey, but you understand me!"

"…No, not really."

I pressed my palm to my face. "I'm going to bed," I grumbled, getting my cup of milk out of the microwave.

Ella giggled and exclaimed, "Good night, Max!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I muttered, trudging up the stairs to my bedroom. I walked past Jeb's room, hoping not to hear skin slapping against skin or screams of pleasure. I walked past Maya's room, hoping not to hear her gossip about something that wasn't even remotely true. I walked past Dr. M's room, hoping to hear _something. _

Then I got to my room and opened the door, wishing my life would somehow turn out okay.

I'm glad I made that warm cup of milk now.

I was going to need a good night's sleep for tomorrow.

**(end of chapter one)**

I hope you liked it. I've had this chapter half written for the past… who knows how many months, but I never really got to finishing it. I really like this story idea and I hope you do too.

**READ+REVIEW=UPDATES!**

The more you read, the more you should review. The more you review, the more I update! (**The more work for Bunny!**)

If you like _this _FAXimum Ride story, check out my _other _one named **Fallen**. It has a bunch of chapters up right now, so if you like my writing style, FAX, Guardian Angels, past lives and other fun stuff, check it out! [**Psh, also if you like Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute's editing skills and stuff… DUH (:**]

Thank you in advance to all reviewers, favoriters and alerters! You all make my day!

-Maximum Strider

**PS. **Thank you to my obviously awesome beta, **Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute**. I changed your name out if you didn't notice.


	2. What Friendship Feels Like

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Maximum Ride, _its characters, plot or setting. All of that goes to the _horrible_ author James Patterson, who has created amazing characters, but writes his stories _very _poorly in my opinion… it could be his ghost writer's fault.  
**Mr. Valentine (Vincent Valentine) **is a character from Final Fantasy VII, which is owned by Square Enix. **Morrigan Aensland **is a character from the Darkstalkers series, which is owned by Capcom.  
**Claimer: **I do own the plot.

Please enjoy! I'm sorry for the late update. (You're actually all quite lucky that I _have _updated. I've had this crazy writer's block ever since updating **Fallen**. I can't seem to get any good ideas out… So, unfortunately, there may not be a **Fallen **chapter anytime soon.)

-Sketched Sanctuary

**For One More Day**

**Chapter Two: **_**What Friendship Feels Like**_

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

I yawned softly as I closed my umbrella up and collapsed it, stuffing it quickly into my backpack. His black leather jacket was wrapped securely around my waist, and I was ready to spot him from the crowd and return it to him. It was early in the morning on this fine Monday, and I was ready to go back home, jump into bed and fall asleep for a few more hours.

Unfortunately, I had a jacket to return, a school to attend, and other shit done daily.

With a sigh, I rubbed my eyes gently and kept walking toward my homeroom, not caring if I was going to be late. I wasn't exactly the brightest student, nor was I one of the likable ones, so the teachers didn't care much if I walked into class five minutes late. They understood my situation to the best of a teacher's ability – which wasn't much, honestly.

Feeling annoyed, I slid the door open and kept walking nonchalantly to my seat, ignoring the glares of the people who could care less about me. None of them were friends with me. The teacher looked at me skeptically, but soon said in an unusually warm tone, "Welcome back, Max."

I nodded in response and sat down, trying to pay attention to Mr. Valentine's welcome back message. "So, we still have a few minutes before class begins," he continued. "Did anyone do anything fun over the weekend?" Mr. Valentine, a tall, pale-skinned man with long black hair and unnatural red eyes, smiled at the class almost kindly. He wasn't exactly the friendliest person to be around… but even so, he was a pretty great teacher.

No one spoke up for a moment until Mr. Valentine called out, "Max? Have you recovered… from what happened?" He watched me carefully, his tone light.

"Y-Yeah." He was referring to the car accident that landed me in the hospital for a week. In reality, I was only in the hospital for three days. The other four days were spent at my house, trying not to slit my dad's throat for all the deeds he did to my mother… and all the things he didn't do for her. "I'm feeling much better," I told him half-honestly. Meeting _His Majesty_ was the best thing that happened the past week (maybe the past month, even), and I wasn't exaggerating.

He nodded, a faint smile playing upon his pale lips. "Good. I hope… everything else works out fine."

Raising an eyebrow, I watching him curiously, still confused. "What… do you mean?" I murmured under my breath. Was that supposed to have an underlying meaning, or was he just saying things?

"Did anyone else have an interesting weekend?" he called out, adjusting his red tie against his black suit.

No one spoke as the second bell rang, so Mr. Valentine began class with no further discussions.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

"Hey."

I looked up and stopped in place, meeting bright blue eyes that belonged to a cute blonde boy. "Hey you," I told him, smiling. "What's up?" Putting my backpack over my shoulder cautiously, I tried to remember what homework Mr. Valentine had assigned to us. With a sigh, I shook my head and focused on the task at hand. It was a longer class-switch period anyway. The warning bell wasn't going to ring for at least another six minutes.

Dylan Seymour chuckled and gestured behind him, revealing the black clothed boy, an indifferent look on his face. "This guy's been waiting for you, Maxie," he replied, laughing again. "He's in Miss Morrigan's homeroom and first class with me… You wanna know the first thing he asked?"

I nodded, raising an eyebrow curiously. "…Will I regret it?"

Dylan grinned. "Nope! He said he was looking for a relatively loud and stubborn, yet still reasonably pretty blonde girl with hazel eyes." Before I could answer with a totally violent and inappropriate response, Dylan took a step back and said, "Well, Nick? Did I find the right girl?"

He nodded silently. "Thank you," he murmured, striding toward me. I stared up at him, wondering what that look in his black eyes was. His black hair was a mess, but it was done in such a way that I thought he messed it up on purpose. "Hello there."

I smiled at him. "Hi… Err, I never caught your name." I unwrapped the black jacket from my waist and handed it to him. "Here's your –"

"Fang," he interrupted, staring down at me with piercing onyx eyes.

"Huh? This is a _jacket_," I told him as he grabbed it from me.

He chuckled and shook his head, pointing at himself. "My name is Nicholas Walker… But call me Fang," he explained, sticking his tongue out. He turned his head toward Dylan and nodded thankfully. "You goin' somewhere before the next class?"

Dylan frowned, but it soon turned into a huge grin. "Mmhm… Gotta… Uhh… Do stuff." He winked at me and then waved goodbye, turning away. "See ya, Maxie. You too, Nicky." I was about to start scolding him and probably end up knocking him out, but he stuck his tongue out in that _'I'm going to set you two up on a date later' _look, which stopped me from moving.

When I unfroze, I glared at Dylan angrily. "Dylan, when I get my hands on you –"

"Oh, a little warning to you, Nicky!" he interrupted, stepping backwards slowly. "She's violent and dangerous, but most of the time she's just a cute blonde klutz!" Dylan scratched the bridge of his nose. "So… Good luck!"

As Dylan made a hasty escape, Fang looked at me with much interest. "And you are…?" he said in a voice that betrayed no emotions. I wasn't sure if what Dylan said had changed his opinions about me or if he was just naturally this… whatever he was.

I grinned up at him, trying to look as innocent as possible. "Maxine Batchelder," I replied, giving him a thumbs-up. "Just call me Max though, 'kay?"

"Max… Got it," he murmured, scratching the back of his head. I blushed for some reason. "Anyway… Are you off to your next class or do you have some time before that?" Fang slowly slid his arms into his jacket and sighed deeply, as if enjoying its presence around him again.

I shrugged. "Is there something you wanted to say?"

Fang nodded and put his hand on my shoulder... comfortingly? "I never told you what I thought about your… situation," he reminded me in a quiet voice.

Raising an eyebrow, I watched him as he pulled his hand away from me and touched the back of his neck gently. "What are you talking about?" I wondered, confused.

"Do you remember yesterday? When we were heading to Starbucks?"

"Um… Yeah…?" To be honest, I had no idea what he was talking about. I don't have the best memory when it came to … Actually, I don't exactly have good memory.

"I didn't tell you what I wanted to say."

I shrugged. "You can go ahead and say it. I don't mind," I replied, still questioning what he was talking about.

He ran a pale hand through his hair and chuckled. "Your life seems hard, but there's something… about you," he said. "Even though you seemed sad at the time, you kept a smile on your face… for my sake… for a stranger. It was…_ nice_ to see that you were okay."

Confused, I asked, "What? I don't get it…"

Fang made that low laughing sound and put his hand on my head, patting it roughly. He seemed to be in a much better mood than yesterday. I wonder what was on his mind before? "You'll understand later… Perhaps… I can explain… Another time."

I rolled my eyes and began to reply, but the warning bell rang before I say what I wanted to. Fang watched me in what looked like amusement as I silently moved my mouth around.

"What did you say?" he asked after the bell quieted down.

"Nothing. But I _wanted _to say, 'What's your next class?' except that annoying bell… Yeah."

He raised an eyebrow and slipped a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper and examining it. "Hmm. Miss Aensland again… Seems to be science…" Fang bit his lip and then replaced the paper back into his pocket. I wonder why people called him 'Fang'…

I shook my head and focused on the current conversation. "She's your homeroom teacher though, right?" When he nodded silently, I continued, saying, "Why don't we walk to her classroom together? I've got her next too."

"Sure," he murmured, gesturing me to go ahead.

I stuck my tongue out. "You're not gonna bail on me the instant I walk in front of you, right?" I asked, laughing.

He shook his head, a soft smile appearing on his lips. "No, of course not."

I slapped his upper back to the best of my ability, as he was a few inches taller than I was. "Good! Now let's get going!" I told him in my best tone of enthusiasm, marching off in the general direction to my next class.

"Mmhm," I heard him sigh, his footsteps echoing behind me.

As we walked through the hall, I passed by classmates who, weirdly enough, were actually paying attention to me for once. After a moment, I realized that it was because of _Fang _that they were looking at me… or perhaps they were wondering why he was walking around with _me, _the most disliked student at school.

I felt my shoulders slump forward at the thought and subconsciously glanced back at Fang, who raised an eyebrow in question. Shaking my head, I turned back to where I was walking and frowned.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked in a low voice, sounding as though he were very close to my face.

I turned to my left and nearly recoiled at the distance between our lips. "Uh, n-no!" I exclaimed in shock, slowly pulling back. "Nothing's wrong!"

He chuckled and straightened up, obviously satisfied with my reaction. "I see." I spun away from him as fast as I could to hide my blush. "It's funny when you lie, by the way," he added.

"I-I – huh, me? Who's lying? I'm not lying!" I exclaimed rapidly, quickening my pace to a speed walk. "I don't lie! I never lie!"

Through my peripheral vision, I saw a blur of black move next to me. "You can tell me anything you know," he murmured. "I may not be… the most sociable of all people, but I am certainly a good listener." His sentence was punctuated with a quiet and friendly laugh.

I stared down at my feet for a while before looking up to answer him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'll be fine," I replied in my most sarcastic voice. Even as the words came out of my mouth, I could tell that I didn't sound very convincing.

He hesitated before speaking, but soon chuckled as I looked away. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'll be here," he repeated, voice mocking, yet laced with the faintest hint of comfort. Sighing, I opened the door to Miss Aensland's room and held it for Fang as well, who nodded his thanks at me.

"Ah, Miss Ride, Mr. Walker," Miss Aensland's seductive European voice called from the front of the classroom. I walked up to her desk and smiled at her as politely as I could. Twenty-six year old Miss Morrigan Aensland giggled in her girly, high-pitched voice. "Are you feeling better, Max? What did the doctors say? Did you make sure you were well rested?"

At the mention of _doctors_, Fang nudged gently my shoulder with his, but I shook my head at him. "Um… Well, the doctors told me I'd be fine as long as I didn't over exhaust my body with _strenuous _activities," I replied in a cool voice.

"Oh, I _see,_" Miss Aensland confirmed, smiling innocently, though I knew she was trying to come up with some sort of sexual innuendo. "Oh, I got it! Strenuous activities? That means absolutely no se –"

At that moment, the second bell rang, effectively cutting her off.

As a science teacher, school counselor, and human being in general, Miss Aensland was _great. _She could be caring, understanding, and she always knew what advice to give in nearly _any _situation thrown at her. Her personality, though perverse and sometimes excruciatingly annoying to deal with, was funny, wise, solemn and downright crazy at times.

There were two main downsides to her though.

My green haired, bright-eyed science teacher looked like she walked right out of the pages of a Playboy magazine. Unfortunately, she was the kind of lady whose entire _existence _seemed to say, _I'm going to make you have sex with me one day… and you're going to enjoy it whether you want to or not!_

And the second thing was… she didn't seem to mind it. At _all. _

Miss Aensland waved us over to our seats, grinning as she stood up and pointed at the notes on the board. I squinted and read over the summary of some weird concoction we were supposed to make. Miss Aensland liked to joke and say that she was actually a _succubus – _a she-devil with only one purpose: make every male human fall in love with her and become her sex slaves. Despite these being simple "jokes", I wouldn't be surprised if the experiment today resulted in love potions. (Or an aphrodisiac…)

"Good morning class!" she greeted happily, while I hurriedly walked to back of the classroom, shaking the thoughts out of my head. "How is everyone? Are we all doing well?"

In unison, the male population of the class, excluding Fang, replied, "Good morning, Miss Aensland! We're all doing great!" Because of the volume of their combined voices, I couldn't tell whether or not the females responded. (I didn't.)

As Fang and I took our seats, I managed to catch his attention with an intense glare. When he looked at me, I stuck my tongue out with a thumb pointed toward Miss Aensland, but he responded with a shrug.

The two of us were placed in the second last row of the room, our desks pushed together. (Last week, the former student sitting next to me requested a class change for "reasons unknown".) Miss Aensland deliberately formed the layout of her classroom to get the boys to talk to girls vice versa… but it didn't really work. Most guys were busy swooning over her… and her ass.

Fang chuckled, as if hearing my inner monologue, but I ignored him.

"Anyway, please welcome our newest student, Nicholas Walker!" Miss Aensland exclaimed, gesturing to the black clothed boy sitting next to me. "He's here in California all the way from Australia for family matters, so it would be great if you made him feel at home for the duration of his stay!" She smiled warmly at Fang and soon caught my attention, nodding slightly when she knew I was looking. I cocked my head to the side, but Miss Aensland turned away, breaking eye contact with me.

Soft murmurs went around the class about him.

"_Whoa! He's… really cute." _That was the voice of stuck-up rich bitch Lissa Amano; the freaky redhead who used to stalk Dylan to all of his classes. _"Ooh. I wonder if he likes red haired girls…"_

Funny, I think Fang and I talked about that yesterday.

About a split second after thinking that, Fang tried to suppress a laugh. I leaned closer toward him and smacked him on the knee, hissing, "Shut it, Aussie!" all the while trying to stop myself from breaking into giggles.

"_Do you think he's one of those Gothic boys? Because I certainly think that's… hot," _one of Lissa's close friends commented a bit too loudly. A few of the boys in the front of the room began laughing at some joke one of them cracked after hearing the second girl's remark.

A grin appeared on Fang's lips, (I wasn't looking at them on purpose!) and he tapped my arm with his fingers. "D'ya think there are many Gothic Aussies in the land down under, mate?" he asked quietly with a heavy Australian accent. "I certainly don't think so…"

I bit my lip as hard as I could, feeling the urge to burst out in hysterical laughter. "Okay, okay, I get it, you're Australian, stop," I begged in my softest voice.

"Alright then, sweetie… Anythin' for you," he replied, still talking with a perfect accent. "'Sides, these unruly American redheads are _nothing_ compared to a cute, loud and stubborn blonde princess like you."

Breathing hard, I dug my nails into my palms and smacked my head against the desk, trying to muffle the sounds I was making. I could tell that Fang was either confused or amused, judging by the sharp intake of breath from him.

"Miss Aensland," he called out in his normal voice after a moment, the desks shifting slightly under me. "I believe Max is dead." Fang rested his hand on my back and touched the side of my neck, feeling my vein for a pulse. "Yes, dead." His fingers were so cold that I couldn't help but shiver at the sensation running up my spine. "…Or unconscious," he amended after my little spasm.

I lifted my head slowly and threw him a well-deserved glare. In response, he shrugged, sticking his tongue out. "I'm alive and kicking, Miss A," I grumbled, rubbing my neck where Fang had touched me. "No need to worry."

"I wasn't worried," she admitted, smiling when I looked at her.

"Is a teacher supposed to say that?" I wondered out loud, raising an eyebrow and exchanging a glance with Fang.

He shrugged and nodded his head toward Miss Aensland. "No offense, but Miss Aensland isn't exactly the most conventional teacher."

"Conventional? Puh-_leeze_." She snorted and laughed. "I'm glad all of you seem ready and willing on this fine Monday morning, so let's begin our little lecture, yes?" Her sudden change of tone quieted the room down, and the only sound heard were the zippers of backpacks and the slams of notebooks and pencils onto the desks.

Fang poked my arm and gestured to the notebook that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. On it, he wrote in quick, almost faded lettering, _Is Miss Aensland always like this? She didn't seem so… bipolar or friendly during English._

I let out a sigh and nodded slowly, still staring straight ahead at the board, wondering if Miss Aensland (or Fang) could tell that I was now off in my own fantasy world.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

When the bell rang for the extended break, Fang and I shifted to sit on top of our desks as the rest of the class dispersed out of the classroom. Miss Aensland stared at us, though she didn't look surprised. I always relaxed after class because I was in no rush to meet up with the friends I didn't have or go to the places I never visited. Why I sat on the _desk_, I didn't know why. Even more puzzling to me was the fact that Fang did this too, and at the same moment I did.

Fang yawned and covered his mouth with his hand, and until this point, I hadn't realized that I was staring at him for the past few minutes. When he recovered, he glanced down at me, lips pursed in amusement. "Hi there," he greeted, poking my cheek.

As he pulled back, I glared at him. "What's with you and… and… poking me and stuff?"

With a shrug as his reply, Fang hopped off the desk and began striding toward the front of the classroom, his black Jansport backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Fang! You didn't answer me!"

He gave Miss Aensland a goodbye just as I threw my black and white Vans backpack on. I rushed to catch up to him, but Fang abruptly stopped at the door's threshold and spun around. Lucky for me, I rammed right into his chest and nearly knocked him over, but Fang was less clumsy than I was and steadied the both of us before we fell.

"Oof!" I groaned, doubling over as he was knocked back by the impact. I straightened up slowly and touched the back of my head self-consciously. "Are you alright?"

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. Just a scratch... You?"

"A scratch?" I ignored his question and the painful throbbing in my shoulder from where he had grabbed me.

"Yeah."

With a sigh, I smacked his arm and said, "Are we going to have to play the _'I'm going to make Fang say more than seven words'_ game again?" I began walking off to where my locker was without waiting for him, knowing that I didn't have to wait. It was one of those gut feelings I occasionally got, and it was telling me that Fang was going to be a loyal friend no matter what. Yeah, cheesy, I know, but this gut has never let me down!

"Well," he hummed for a moment. "…No." A few seconds later, he was walking right next to me, our arms almost touching.

"I beg to differ," I snorted, playing with the thingy on my locker. "You're definitely speaking less than seven words."

"I'm a man of action," was all he said, leaning back against the steel lockers that were next to mine.

"_Action_." I snorted again as I quickly inputted the combination. "Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly you, Mr. I-Make-Girls-Swoon-Over-Me-With-My-Accent-and-My… uh… confusing… vocabulary... Yeah…" My voice trailed off as he stared at me with his onyx eyes, various emotions lingering within them.

He smirked playfully. "Yes… Actions speak louder than words…" he said softly. It was as if the deafening sounds of the busy hallway could not drown out Fang's voice even though he was whispering. I believe this is an example of 'mindless flirting'.

"Oh?" I rummaged through my locker without breaking eye contact with him. With a frown, I grasped the edges of one of my notebooks, but it didn't feel right for some reason. "Is that so…?" I tugged on it as hard as I could and recoiled back hastily, pulling on the notebook with too much power. Obviously, it wasn't ready to be forcefully grabbed like that, as it flew out and almost literally exploded into a mess of notebook paper on the floor.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, I knelt down and began shuffling all of the papers together, not caring what order they were put in. A pair of pale hands took other sheets and neatly stacked them, resting the pile near the one next to me. I glanced up and made eye contact with Fang's obsidian eyes.

He laughed quietly and ran a hand through his black hair. "…You truly _are _a klutz," he remarked, taking all of the papers and sliding them into the notebook, making sure none of the papers fell out.

"Whatever!" I exclaimed, scrambling to my feet. I ended up slamming hard into Fang as he stood up. He grabbed my shoulders roughly again to stop me from falling, but I instead pressed my face right into his chest. With a deep breath, I groaned, knowing that blood was rushing to my cheeks. "Meh. I owe you… _two. _No, make that three_._" I pulled myself away from him and gladly took my notebook from him, slipping it into one of the smaller pockets of my backpack.

He shrugged and shook his head, looking unfazed by our physical contact. "You owe me absolutely nothing, Max," he said, crossing his arms, his expression cool and composed in contrast to me. "When I saw you in the rain yesterday, I felt like –"

"Hey, Maxie-poo!" a loud, familiar voice shouted from behind, cutting into Fang's sentence. I tried to smile at him reassuringly, but Fang shrugged and waited as I turned around to face one of my best friends. Fang was obviously bothered by the interruption, and I realized that our little moment had lost its meaning.

A speed demon came running at me full-speed, wild strawberry blonde hair flying. With a loud yelp, he jumped into my arms. "How are you, Max?" I caught him, somehow managing not to be tackled into the ground.

"Iggy!" I exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "I'm great!" He hastily pulled away, grinning as he looked back and forth between me and Fang. I glanced at Fang, but he shrugged again wordlessly. "This is Nick Walker… and, uh, Fang, this is James… Ahem, _Iggy _Sparda." I pointed at the glasses-wearing boy with blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair and an atmosphere of trouble.

"Hey there!" Iggy said with much enthusiasm, grinning at Fang. "What's up, brosky!"

Fang stared, his face obviously not pleased. "The ceiling is up… Jiggy," he replied solemnly. I couldn't help but start laughing hysterically at the look on Fang's face… but his mood had completely changed.

Iggy raised an eyebrow at me, his earlier burst of energy now faded. "Is something wrong with him?" he asked, a frown on his face. "He just called me _Jiggy. _Am I supposed to assume that he was trying to call me _Jelly? _Or _Jiggly…puff?_"

A Jigglypuff? No, Iggy dressed up as a Jigglypuff…? God, that's worse than imagining me as a Charizard! (Or would I be a Maxizard?) Fang would probably be some weird one, like… a black Rayquaza… or he'd just be a demented and emo Ash Ketchum. Fash Ketchup. Hmm…

With a quiet grunt, I forced all Pokémon-related thoughts out of my head. "Nah, he's always that… um…" I eyed Fang curiously. "Serious." When Iggy was distracted by something random (as he always is), Fang threw me an annoyed glare. I shrugged and mouthed, _What was I supposed to call you? Emo? _He seemed to understand me and rolled his eyes.

When Iggy turned back to us, his face was obviously suspicious. "So… Nick," he said slowly. "Are you… Max's boyfriend?" Iggy adjusted his hard-rimmed glasses against his nose, squinting to examine Fang better.

He shrugged. "I suppose so, being a friend, as well as a male human being."

Oh Fang. You smartass.

"What he means is… No, he's not," I sighed, hitting him on the shoulder. "He's just a good friend of mine." Fang rolled his eyes again and flicked my forehead with his finger. "Hey!" I slapped his hand away, but managed not to punch him in the face.

Iggy chuckled, his emotions suddenly becoming extremely friendly. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Max didn't beat you up! You're one lucky guy!"

Fang turned to Iggy, his eyes narrowed. I wasn't sure if Fang was angry or if he was coming up with something clever to say. "So Max… beats people up?" he asked after a moment, expression uninterested.

"W-Wait, when you say it like that…" I started. With a sigh, I shook my head and said, "If you describe me like that, I think –"

"Max, we were joking," Fang interrupted, holding up a finger to quiet me. "I promise."

Feeling my fists curl up into tight balls, I lifted my head, knowing that the anger could be seen. "What's wrong with both of you?" I grumbled. "Do guys have… some special connection with each other or something?"

"It's called a bromance," Iggy replied, laughing. "Duh."

At the same time, Fang shrugged in response, a bored look on his face.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and managed not to maul both of them then and there. Just as I was about to begin scolding them, Fang clasped his hand onto my shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. Okay, _ow. _I think he's bruised my shoulders by now.

"I get it," he muttered in a low voice.

The pain quickly subsided. "Huh? What do you mean?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. I tried to ignore Iggy's snickering from the side.

"Mm… I'll tell you later," Fang replied, humming to himself. Turning to Iggy, he slipped his hands into his pockets and took out a small, silver-black object. "I recall one of the girls from my first class mentioning an Iggy when I found this…"

Iggy shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What is that, exactly?" He moved closer to examine it, but Fang made a fist around it. "Aww, c'mon, lemme see it!"

Fang put his hand close to his face and relaxed his hand, obviously fascinated by whatever it was. "Hmm… I wonder…" He glanced at me and gestured me to come closer, to which I responded to by pointing at Iggy.

"Nah, you go ahead and see it first, Maxie," Iggy said. He crossed his arms and pouted almost angrily, though I knew that he was just messing with us. "It's probably nothing cool, _anyway._" In response, "His Majesty" chuckled under his breath and held his hand out to Iggy.

Iggy made a surprised sound. "Oh my _gawd, _Maxie, he's proposing to me!" he exclaimed, slapping his cheeks with both of his hands. "What do I do? _What do I do?_"

I sighed and smacked Iggy atop the head, smiling apologetically at Fang. "Ignore him. He's being an idiot again."

Iggy began to protest, but Fang shook his head, slipping the object back into his pocket. "Well, it's nothing, I guess," he murmured after a moment, scratching the side of his head.

Letting out an annoyed puff of air, Iggy glared at Fang. "C'mon, lemme see it, future brother-in-law," he grumbled, putting his hands on his hips. "Lemme see, lemme see!" He stepped closer to Fang, who turned around with his back facing Iggy. Iggy jumped up and tried to look over his shoulder, which made me realize that Fang was about 5'11 or so while Iggy was slightly shorter. Of course, I felt _tiny_ in comparison, even though I was one of the taller girls of our grade…

"No. It's in my pocket anyway," Fang reminded, swatting behind him. He conveniently slapped Iggy in the face, who, in turn, recoiled backwards into me. I reflexively pushed him back toward Fang, but Fang just returned him back to me. "I don't want it."

"I don't want it either!" I told him back, patting Iggy on the shoulder as I shoved him again.

"Okay, I know I'm _awesome _and – oof, Nick, could you be gentler? – like, really sexy and stuff, but this is _really _getting out of hand! And I'm not an _it!_ I'm – whoa!" Iggy ducked under us just as Fang was about to ram into him with his shoulder. Of course, because Fang was already in motion, he instead tripped over Iggy and rolled over as he fell onto the ground, forcing Iggy along with him.

At that point, the bell rang, but it was only faintly heard in my ears.

I started laughing and peered down at both of them, noticing only now that we had drawn in a small crowd. "I promise, I had absolutely nothing to do with that one," I said in a relatively loud voice. No one seemed to believe me, but after five seconds or so, they all began to disperse to their own classes as Fang and Iggy stood up.

"So, what class do you have next, Fang?" I asked. Wiping his hands on his pants, Fang threw me an annoyed look. He then stuck his hand into his pocket, fishing out the schedule sheet and examining it. At the same time, Iggy began hopping up and down in place, suddenly hyperactive for no apparent reason… again.

"Hmm… Math. With Valentine," he replied. "You?"

Iggy stopped jumping and let out a glad whoop. "Woot! I call partnering up with Fang!" he shouted, linking arms with the other teen. "C'mon homey, let's get to class!"

I pursed my lips and tried my hardest not to laugh at Iggy's normal routine. At this rate, Fang was probably going to kill us both while we were asleep. Actually, after a close inspection of Fang's deathly angry face, he was probably ready to kill us right _now. _

"How about you, Max?" Fang asked in a strained voice. "Are you in our class?" His voice sounded… hopeful. I think.

I shook my head. "Nah, I have my math class with Mr. Masters," I responded. "I'll see you guys during lunch?" I didn't want to mention that I was failing that specific class, or the fact that the class was actually a grade lower than the one I should have been taking.

"Yeah," Fang replied almost silently.

In contrast, the pyromaniac (yes, he is a pyromaniac, amongst other things) replied in a jubilant voice, "Of course!" Iggy gave me a thumbs-up and winked. "I got you somethin' special, sistah!"

Iggy then proceeded to put his arm around a reluctant Fang, who put his hand up in a small wave. I waved back and felt myself smile, glad to see the two of them getting along kind of sort of well. He rolled his eyes, and I watched in amazement as a joyful grin appeared on his face. I chuckled and stuck my tongue out, and he shooed me off with a weird looking hand gesture. Soon enough, an overly excited Iggy, who didn't seem to notice the silent exchange between us, pulled Fang away.

I guess this happy, enjoyable _comradeship _between my maniacal childhood friend, the cute Australian transfer, and me, the flunking delinquent girl, was what "friendship" was really supposed to be. It felt great to know they were there.

After a second of watching them walk away, I felt stupid for not realizing that I had to get to a classroom on the opposite side of the school.

What I _wouldn't_ do for a pair of angel wings right now…

**(end of chapter two)**

Yes. Fang is _Australian _in this story. He's actually an American-born person of Australian/European descent and moves to Australia, but that will be covered in another –later– chapter. I have an obsession with Australians. 3 My beta should know why, and if she doesn't, she should be able to guess…

**Fluffy (Beta)- OF **_**COURSE **_**I KNOW WHY. You only talk about the Aussie almost all the time…**

**Crisis (Roommate)- "The Aussie"…? That's me, isn't it? Great. Now I feel worse than Iggy does being called an "it". At **_**least **_**call me sexy, handsome, mysterious amazing, or Deadpoolicious… A combination of any of those would be best! Think about it. "That Deadpoolicious Aussie". Yeah. Sexy, isn't it?**

**Hero (Me)- How and why I put up with them… I don't know.**

_**ANYWAY.**_

**READ+REVIEW=UPDATES!**

You know what to do.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I felt like this one actually went on forever, but I had fun writing out parts of this one because of Iggy's energy and stupidity. I kept cracking up and laughing to myself.

The next chapter will flow _much better. _

Anyone know what I'm referencing with Max's thoughts on Pokémon? (Hint of Obviousness: I'm the author.) Whoever gets it right gets a cookie!

Ahem.

-A Red Charizard (And no, I am not referencing my gamertag.)

**Special thanks to Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute for the great beta! She's my homey, yo! Check out her stories, because she… is… AWESOME!**

**On the other hand, I'll go ahead and save myself some trouble by thanking Crisis Contained for… whatever he wants me to thank him for. His great input? Him being Australian? Him being my /effing/ roommate? We'll never know what's going on in that mind of his…**

_Wait up for the next chapter! I know you guys will! _


	3. Why We Got Detention

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Maximum Ride, _its characters, plot or setting. All of that goes to the _horrible_ author James Patterson, who has created amazing characters, but writes his stories _very _poorly in my opinion… it could be his ghost writer's fault. Still… It should be better. )':  
**Claimer: **I do own the plot.

-**Mr. Green, head of your subconscious' security**

"_Mr. Fischer, I'm here to protect you." _

(The "Mr. Charles" approach from _Inception._)

**For One More Day**

**Chapter Three: **_**Why We Got Detention**_

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

I let out a long sigh and sat down at my usual spot in the lunchroom, leaving my tray on the table. Forcing my water bottle open, I took a long, refreshing drink while scanning the place for signs of Fang and Iggy. I scratched the side of my head with one hand and placed the bottle on the table, feeling knots forming in my stomach.

"What do I do?" I muttered to myself, picking up a fork and stabbing at my food. I lifted it to my face and examined it, but couldn't force myself to eat it. "God…" Due to the fact that I was being distracted by Iggy and Fang, I had ended up walking into my math class about a minute and a half late. Though that may not sound like much, Mr. Masters was a very strict and punctual teacher, so, naturally, I was given a detention to "make up for lost time"… but I'm not sure how half of my lunch period is equivalent to almost two minutes.

I rubbed my temples gently, groaning under my breath. "I'll just worry about it tomorrow," I mumbled out loud, reminding myself that detention was normally the day after unless there was an important and/or specific reason otherwise.

"Worry about what, sweetie?" a familiar voice asked from behind me. I lifted my head up and looked backwards, staring up into two black orbs. "Tell me?" Fang smiled and took a seat opposite me, flipping his hair back as he picked up a fork.

I sighed again and stabbed at my… pasta. Or whatever this school lunch crap was. "I got a detention for bein' late… Yeah, it's nothing," I replied, sticking my tongue out at my food.

It wasn't _nothing._

I already had _enough _detentions and one more _would _hurt.

Geez.

He chuckled, which made me look up at him. His face was so… so… prettyful.

Wait.

I felt myself shudder in confusion (amongst other emotions) as I swiftly looked down to hide my blush.

_Prettyful isn't a word._

_More importantly, Fang isn't prettyful,_ I heard my rational side continue.

_HE'S SEXY, _said Irrational Max.

"Detention?" he repeated, cause me to look up again. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes when he saw me staring at him. I hastily turned away, picking up a fork and poking my food. "Hmm… That's my fault, isn't it?"

"Your fault? Nah, of course not," I replied quickly, smiling at him. "I wasn't walking fast enough, that's all."

Fang chuckled and stuck his fork into his mouth, chewing slowly. After a moment, he swallowed it down, shaking his head. "Heh… You can tell me the truth," he muttered quietly.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, waving my hand around. "Shut up, Fang. You weren't the cause of anything, and you know it," I grumbled, pushing my tray to the middle of the table.

He frowned and stabbed some of my pasta with his own fork, trying it out for himself. "Your meal isn't so bad," he remarked after a minute, laughing again. The light, breezy expression on his face turned serious, and he leaned forward, his chin in his hand. "So… What's really on your mind?"

"Fang, I hate you right now," I mumbled, turning my head to stare down at the blue metal lunch table.

"It shows," Fang replied simply. "Your expression is easy to read, which makes my job a lot easier."

"What _job? _Are you trying to hurt my little sissy again, Mister?" an obnoxious shout came from behind Fang. I glanced up and saw Iggy throwing his paper bag onto the table. He slid next to Fang and patted his shoulder. "Ah, that's alright, buddy. She'll beat you up in a few minutes." Iggy winked at me and continued to dump out the content of his lunch bag. "Am I right, Max?"

With a roll of my eyes, I shook my head and pressed my forehead against the cold metal. "No, I'm not beating anyone up today," I retorted, teeth gritted together. "Or any _other _day for that matter."

"Stop teasing her, Ig," Fang murmured.

"Fang, I don't need you to defend me," I growled, trying not to get angry at him. _He's only trying to help, Max, he's only trying to help, _I chanted in my head.

"Ah… I'm sorry…"

I glanced up and saw his worried obsidian eyes. For a split second, I wanted to comfort him, but Iggy's voice interrupted my ideas.

"Okay, now that you two have made up," Iggy exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table, "it's time for super fun Iggy time!"

I let out a reluctant breath and turned my attention to Iggy. After a moment, I made eye contact with Fang and nodded at him, trying to express my apology with my body language. He seemed to understand me, as a half-smile lit up his face. Fang nonchalantly pointed at Iggy, who in turn crossed his arms in annoyance.

"_Okay,_" Iggy groaned after watching the two of us, "Now that you two are _engaged, _it's time for super fun Iggy time! …Again!" He began rummaging through the pile of food and _other _objects in front of him, not caring about the fact that there were some _items _there that were, at the very least, _inappropriate_, if not illegal, for school.

"Back up for one second," I requested, feeling my eyebrows furrow. "Did you just say that Fang and I are engaged?" Fang chuckled under his breath, obviously knowing about some sort of _bromance _secret that I was not allowed to learn about.

"Yes," Iggy answered, pulling out various things from his junk pile and placing them in the middle of the table. "Anyway, Max, remember those earmuffs I made for you last week?"

"Yes. Worthless pieces of crap, if I may," I added, scratching the side of my head. "There's a reason that I have my own room and why Ella's room is downstairs."

"Well, I made a new version of it!" he exclaimed, flicking random pieces of paper, food and hopefully _candy _wrappers (and not what I thought it was) all over the place. "Hang on… It's here, somewhere."

Fang, noticing my grossed-out expression, slowly stuck his hand into the pile and lifted something out it. He examined it with a seemingly-calm façade which quickly turned into disgust. "Ahem. Iggy?" Fang murmured quietly, setting the black, lacey panties aside. "I would like to… question you on your… methods."

Iggy's eyes darted up to meet Fang's for a moment, but his face suddenly lit up as he found whatever it was that he was looking for. "Okay, this is awesome," he announced, ignoring Fang's cautions. He stood up dramatically, about to pull something out of the horrid pile of… stuff.

I straightened my back and growled, "If you pull out a dildo –"

"Or a vibrator or milker or pump or–" Fang interrupted.

"Or any _combination _of those items," I quickly said before Fang could continue, "you're dead."

"…Wow." Iggy blinked a few times and hurriedly sat back down, his ego deflated. "That was… overkill guys. My mood just skyrocketed to the floor."

Fang raised an eyebrow in confusion. "How does something _skyrocket_ to the _floor? _That… makes… no sense."

I glanced at Iggy with a nod of agreement, not wanting to comment on Fang's response. "Okay, how about you just show us what you _wanted _to show us?"

He shrugged and pulled upward, taking a new pair of… _Beats. _"Max. Beats. I got you _Beats._" Iggy handed me them, but, of course, knowing Iggy, I trusted absolutely nothing he said.

I examined them thoroughly, trying to make sure there wasn't something that was going to make me sick or throw up or something. With an exasperated sigh, I put them on Fang's head. "Wear this…" I muttered, taking the end of it and stroking it into my phone. I unlocked my phone and searched for a song that he'd like – oh. _Tears Don't Fall. _"And let's see –"

"Fuuucckk!" Fang shouted in an annoyed voice, throwing the headphones off his head. "What the hell, Iggy?" he screamed, his voice rising an octave. He angrily got to his feet, huffing out a breath of air.

I pulled the end cord out of my phone and looked at Iggy, then at Fang. "You okay?" I asked, looking up at him.

He growled. "I think he _fried _my brain," he mumbled, rubbing the sides of his head.

I glanced around the room, curiously noticing the people who had heard Fang's pained shouts. Interestingly the lunchroom had grown entirely silent, save for Iggy's excessive giggling.

Obviously confused, Fang looked around, the look on his face one of pure annoyance. "Shoot," he murmured, sitting back down next to Iggy. "You know… I'm… Just, _God_. Fuck you, Iggy."

Soon, all the noise came right back to the level it was at earlier. Iggy grinned evilly and put an arm around Fang's shoulders. "You're not God. Besides, only _girls _want to do that."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Come on guys. Can't you both go more than an hour without causing _some _type of commotion?"

The boys exchanged a glance, but shook their heads when they looked back at me. "We're too cool for that," Fang said in a low voice, winking at me.

I blushed and averted my eyes to Iggy, who replied with a simple, "Ditto." Funny how it was silent emo kid who said the longer sentence.

"Iggy," Fang muttered, the look on his face now tired and exasperated. "You owe me… _big time _for all of this."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't let him give you _anything_, though. Just ask him if he can stop screwing up your life. Then you'll be able to survive another year of high school... or less."

"Are you positive?" Fang snorted. "At this rate, I'll be gone before then." He leaned on his arm again, poking at his lunch. The expression on his face made it obvious that his words meant much more than his teasing voice showed.

Iggy, whose enthusiasm was overwhelming, hopped up and down in his seat, oblivious to Fang's now-depressed state. "So, how did you two end up as friends? Or engaged? Or married? Or friends? I feel like you both would prefer to kill each other… like, rather than _talk _like peaceful human beings! You know? Like _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_." I knew he was going to continue rambling, so I quickly cut him off.

"_Wow Iggy,_" I said sarcastically. "You flatter me _all the time. _No wonder we're _best friends._"

He shot me a glare, but proceeded to repeat the question to Fang. "Any reason at all?" he prompted.

Fang tilted his head slowly, but he was still bent over the table. "The rain… was beautiful yesterday," he replied simply. Iggy frowned, but Fang turned to me with a sly wink.

I began to reply, a witty comment floating in my head, but was promptly cut off… by someone I hated. Like, seriously.

"It was… wasn't it?" a loud, overly-obnoxious voice called from behind Iggy. The three of us looked up to see Lissa Amano and her insane clown posse. She smiled seductively at Fang and flipped her ginger hair back. "Hey… _Nicholas. _You were… _awesome _in science and math today," she cooed, sitting down next to him. She cuddled closer to him, but Fang stayed motionless, his face as stoic as his body.

"Did we _say _it was okay for _you _to sit here, Amano?" I growled, feeling my fists curl up in anger. Fang's eyes glanced upward to meet mine for a split second, but soon returned to staring down at the table.

Lissa snorted, the sound _perfect _for her pig-like features. "So the dumbass delinquent girl can use more than three words in a sentence, huh?"

"Zip it, Lissa. Max knows _way _more about _life _then you do," Iggy interrupted angrily, his voice strangely high-pitched.

"Hah! _Life?_" Lissa said, her arrogance and naivety _really _showing by now. You never got James Ignatius Sparda mad. Why else do you think his nickname was _The Igniter? _"She doesn't _have _one. No good thing can come out of hanging out with these two," she added pointedly at Fang. "So come on! Why don't you hang out with… _us?_" She gestured to the six or seven identical busty whores behind her.

Once upon a time, way back during freshman year, Lissa and I were friends – not just companions that said hi during passing period; we were _friends. _Like _hang out on the weekends _friends. Then some nasty shit happened in sophomore year, and the feelings escalated during junior year. Now, as a senior, I simply cannot stand her or her insane clown posse.

But that was then and this is now.

I looked up to see Fang purse his lips and make brief eye contact with me before speaking. His eyes were cold and unsympathetic and the look on his face showed nothing but anger and disdain.

"You wouldn't know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat," Fang murmured in a low, dangerous voice. "Now please…"

Lissa's face was stricken with shock and confusion.

"Leave us alone."

The red-haired girl hastily stood up, anger overriding her previous emotions. "Fuck you! You know, you just dug yourself a deep grave, mister!"

At this point, her supposed friends had deserted her, due to the sudden lack of noise. In addition, I noticed a tall, familiar figure walking in through the double doors of the lunchroom.

"Shit," I cursed, nodding my head to the side. "It's the Dean!" I motioned for Lissa to shut up, but since she was an idiotic knucklehead, she continued to spout out repetitive obscenities.

"Don't you dare look at me like that, you fucking shank!" she shouted, her hands on her hips. "You're nothing but a lowly, piece of shit amateur who knows _absolutely _nothing about the real world!"

"Miss Amano? Miss Ride – Batchelder? Mr. Sparda? And… Ah, Mr. Walker. Please join me for lunch." The Dean, a tall, sandy-blonde haired twenty-nine year-old, smiled evilly. He slid his black aviators off to reveal bright blue eyes. Donovan Aensland was the kind of guy you'd see walking slow-mo on a beach, rather than a Dean at a high-standard high school.

"M-Mr. Aensland!" Lissa exclaimed in shock, spinning around to meet his glare. I let out a loud sigh and stood up, motioning for the boys to join me. Iggy shrugged in response since, of course, he was used to this by now. Fang, though, was a little more hesitant to come along.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Walker?" Mr. Aensland called out, smirking. Fang shook his head and stood up, standing up next to Iggy, who was yawning.

Fang shrugged again and gave some sort of signal to Iggy. I let out a loud, annoyed sigh as Iggy held up his pinky and ring fingers at me.

Lissa stood there in confusion.

But Mr. Aensland sighed in understanding.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

"So, what's the problem here?" he asked, folding his hands together after we had seated ourselves down in the chair.

Lissa glared at each of us for about five seconds each and she even dared to throw Mr. Aensland one as well. "All of them of them were harassing me during lunch!" she blurted out in a high-pitched voice.

"What?" I quickly spat, straightening up in my seat. "Us… _harassing _her? Impossible! What a lie! The three of us were having a _great _lunch period! Donovan – " – He shot me an annoyed glare – "– Mr. Aensland! Listen to me! We were having fun. Then she came along… and _ruined _it."

"N-No!" Lissa began, but Iggy cut in, standing up and throwing his hands on his hips.

"Proof!" he shouted, grinning like an idiot. "Or GTFO!"

"Miss Ride?" Mr. Aensland asked, sighing.

"_Batchelder,_" I corrected, rolling my eyes. No wonder Donovan and Morrigan were siblings. They both _loved _making an innuendo of my name.

"Yes. _Batchelder,_" he emphasized. "But I would like to ask Lissa for _her _side of the story." The look on his face was annoyed – our little plan to quickly end the conversation was obviously not working. Unfortunately, we weren't going to slip by without detentions this time… even though we didn't deserve them, actually…

"_Miss Amano?_"

Lissa hopped to her feet excitedly and rapidly began spouting out _complete _lies. She told a long, exaggerated version of the small, five minute encounter between the four of us.

Judging by the looks on Mr. Aensland's and Fang's faces, we were going to be here for a _long _time.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

As we, meaning Fang and I, left the Dean's office, I eyed him with what hopefully looked like I was impressed. "Geez, Fang. I didn't know you could _talk _like that!" I exclaimed, smacking his back.

He chuckled and shrugged, leaning against the wall next to me. The two of us began to have a small conversation, waiting for Iggy and Ms. Whores-a-Lot to finish with their interrogations. Fang had somehow provoked Donovan to the point of anger, which caused the two of us to be "evicted" from his office.

"I can be… quite… _persuasive_ when I choose to be," he explained with a slight smirk.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Whatever. You're still…" Pouting, I pondered a good word to describe him. Or maybe it just gave me a good reason to stare at his face… I shook my head and said, "Dunno."

He glanced at me, a teasing look on his face. "Handsome? Sexy? Gorgeous? Absolutely _perfect?_" he suggested, leaning in a little too close for comfort.

"I got it!" I shouted, pushing him away. Fang smiled and nodded at me to continue. "Obnoxious!" I slammed my balled up fist into my other palm excitedly, grinning at him like a fool from an anime.

The expression on his face warped into a neutral, more emo one. "But…" He sighed and leaned against the wall again, touching the side of his head. "You are a heartbreaker, sweetie," he growled in that prettyful accent.

I smiled and beamed up at him innocently. "Please forgive me, my _love,_" I replied in a sweet, high-pitched voice. Of course, when I say things, they never sound the way I want them to.

Though _he _apparently thought it sounded right. "Oh? I… apologize…" He glanced down at me, an indifferent look on his face. "Please… my princess. Do not be angry… I couldn't stand it… if you were… angry at me."

"I-I'm not angry!" I exclaimed, feeling myself blush. "I-I-I –" To hide my face, I looked to the left of me, staring at the old lockers opposite me.

"God, you two!" Lissa shouted, poking her head out from the office. "Shut up –" Her words were abruptly cut off when she saw my embarrassed face. "_Ohmigawd. _I bet Nicholas _pays you _to be a _whore, _doesn't he! Holy God, this is some _juicy gossip!_"

"No _duh!_" I quickly retorted. "That's _all _it is! _Gossip! Lies! Fake! _Is there anything else you can do in your so-called _life?_" I asked, irritated.

Lissa began giggling that whorishly pig-giggle, not seeming to notice my rising anger. "I'm _totally _gonna tell _everyone!_" I think she ignored every word I just said.

"Wouldn't you think… it'd more likely… that… _she's _being a whore…?" Fang's husky voice asked, his breath minty in my ear.

I started laughing hysterically again, smiling up at Fang happily. Finally, someone who understands! "Lissa. Please," I continued, "I don't want you to get into any more trouble than you should _be _in, sweetie." I stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes, wondering how someone could be _so stupid._

"Me?" she said in shock. "_Me?_"

"Um, yes, I thought I was being crystal clear…"

Lissa scowled, but went back into the Dean's office with no other complaints. I let out a loud sigh of relief, poking Fang in the shoulder. "Hey Fang?" I muttered, staring downward awkwardly.

"Mhm?" I saw him glance at me from the corner of my eyes, but I hid behind my hair, not wanting to see him. "Somethin'… wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nah."

"Hah… Liar…" he mumbled, poking my shoulder back.

"What?" I looked up at him, but he had already turned away, his arms crossed as if he had never spoken at all. Maybe he didn't.

"So…" he said quietly. "Do you have any hobbies?" There was a thoughtful look on his face, but I really doubted the idea of him being thoughtful of _my hobbies. _

After a second, I remembered that he was still waiting for an answer. "Uh... to be honest… I just kind of… do stuff."

"_Stuff?" _he repeated with a low chuckle.

"N-No, I mean… I play video games. I go out with the few friends I have. I play school sports. I… I just… I guess I just don't… Hmm, how do I phrase this?" I tapped my chin a few times before continuing. "I guess my day is kinda boring, you know? Repetitive. Monotonous… Same shit done daily, you know? My life's not really fun, I guess."

"_Not fun?_" he repeated. "I'd say that sounds… pretty fun." A soft smile appeared on his face, which both startled and confused me.

I felt my eyebrows furrow in complete confusion. "What? What the heck do you mean, Fang?"

He chuckled and averted his gaze away from me, which effectively let me stare at his beautifully chiseled face… I mean, um... I looked at him, trying to appear casual. Yeah. That's what I meant. "Fang? Is there something wrong?" I asked quietly, watching his face quiver in what looked like… sadness.

He quickly turned to me, the sad emotion on his face disappearing. "Nah, I'm good," he replied, a faint grin replacing his gloomy attitude.

"Are you sure?" I asked again, frowning this time.

With a sigh, Fang placed his hand on my shoulder. "Max… I'm fine, okay?" His eyes were pleading – pleading me to stop asking questions. "Alright?"

"Alright," I gave in, sighing. "But if ever –"

"–You're the first to know."

"That's not what I –" I pressed my palm to my face. "Screw you, Fang."

"Go ahead, sweetie," he murmured, using his Australian accent again. "I'll enjoy it."

Feeling my face burn in realization at his words, I spat back, "Dude! Shut up!" I turned away and stared down at the floor, trying to shrug Fang's hand off my shoulder.

"Do I squeeze your… shoulders… too hard?" he asked softly, pulling away with a chuckle.

I nodded meekly, still not unwilling to let him see my face.

"Sorry," he murmured in a low voice. "Sorry. Really."

"I-it's okay. Really," I assured him, trying to use the same cool and composed voice he had.

"Ahem…" A low pitched throat-clearing from the Dean's room made my head snap up in attention.

When I glanced to my left, I met eyes with Dean Aensland's, the look on his face completely amused. "Come in, you two. We're finished." He ducked back inside, chuckling to himself. I felt Fang gently pat my shoulder, but soon became a black blur moving into the threshold.

With a sigh, I shook my head and followed him inside.

(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)(X)

Dean Aensland folded his hands together and stared at each of us in turn as we sat down. "James, Lissa, thank you. You are both dismissed," he said, nodding.

Iggy stood up, but grumbled, "Do _I _really have a week's detention? I'm glad Lissa has it, but come on. I did nothing –"

"Those headphones are dangerous, James." His eyes darkened. "Please get rid of them."

His shoulders slumped forward. "Kays…"

"I _so _shouldn't be in detention! Please, Dean _Donovan?_" she mumbled… seductively. I had just noticed now that she was leaning forward to an extreme, probably trying to wow Mr. Aensland with her… whatever those things on her chest are. They don't even look… real.

"No."

Way to go, Donovan.

"…Please?"

"Would you like another week's detention?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his face cool and composed.

"W-What? Dean Donovan –"

"Yes, I see. Calling me by first name… one more week."

"But –"

"Talking back?" He made a _tsk tsk _sound. "One more week… totaling three weeks."

Lissa's face turned grave. "Fine…"

Soon, the Dean's face went from Mr. Serious to Happy Jolly Man. "Miss Ride, Mr. Walker," he called out as Lissa and Iggy left. Lissa smacked my arm, which got her a glare from Donovan… and the words he mouthed were probably, _Four weeks of detention. _Or maybe, _Pour beaks of redemption._

After a moment, he sighed in relief when Lissa and Iggy exited for real. "So, I got Iggy's… erm, James' story and Lissa's." The Dean sighed once more. "Miss Ride. This is a problem. You seem to be in my office at _least _once a week… Yes, Mr. Walker?"

I looked in time to see him lower his pale hand. Fang winked at me, but turned his attention back to Mr. Aensland. "Is there any reason you call Max_... _Miss _Ride?_"

The "Great, Almighty" Dean Aensland said in response, "It's a long story, Mr. Walker. Though it's quite simple. She's a sexual innuendo."

Fang chuckled. "I see… What… do you call her, exactly?"

I glared at Fang and then looked at the Dean with a warning look, but he replied anyway.

"_Maximum Ride,_" he said, nodding at Fang approvingly. "Just imagine her in a movie, Nicholas. She's a mutant angel, taking over the skies, but she's conflicted between saving the world or saving her mutant family –"

"Mr. Aensland!" I protested before he could continue. "_Please _don't mention it!"

He shrugged. "I'm sorry, what did you say, Miss Ride? I nearly forgot what you put on that one English essay of yours a few weeks ago. What was that phrase? A beautiful dark angel, diving in so he could sweep you off your feet like a prince –"

I shot to my feet. "Mr. Aensland!" I exclaimed, feeling my face heat up.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. I'll continue, little niece," he said with a yawn. "Even if you _are _my niece, I have to make it a little unfair. So I'm assigning you both to three days of detentions."

"Mr. Aensland," I groaned, already over his previous line of assault. "I already have detention! You know that!"

"I don't know much, Max. All I know is you have three more days of detention, and Nick over there will have his permanent record stained." Donovan smirked. "Now then. Do you have any questions?"

I glanced to my left, but Fang stared solemnly at the Dean. "Would there be any way that we could make up for our… misdemeanors instead of having detention?" he asked a quiet voice.

"I like your wording boy!" he exclaimed happily, clasping his hands together. He nodded excitedly and rubbed his chin. "Mm… That gives me a great idea, Nicholas."

"Uh-huh." I raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "And what, do tell, is this great idea, Dono?"

Donovan rolled his eyes. "Do not call me _Dono _ever again. And it's simple. You remember those the two Harmonia kids you used to –"

I groaned again.

" – babysit when you were a freshman? Angel and Edward?" he continued, grinning at my horrorstricken face. "Yes? No? Maybe?"

Fang looked back and forth at us, completely confused. He may not know who these two kids were, but, sadly, I knew them pretty well. "…Dean?" he mumbled, though he was staring straight at me.

I shook my head at Fang and threw a well-deserved glare at my uncle.

"Well," Donovan continued as if nothing happened, "they've requested an older tutor from this school…"

Third groan's the charm.

"…and I believe that you two fit the bill."

I pressed my palm to my face. "Donovan, you know my grades."

"And I know _Nicholas' grades_ from his old school. So don't give me that _I'm too stupid to teach someone else _excuse again," he reminded me, winking. I blushed at the memory. "Nicholas gets straight A's. You could learn something from a young man like him."

Fang nodded, when I glanced at him curiously. He proceeded to wink like the Dean, though this one was much more suggestive and… well, cute. "I could teach you a lot, honey bunny," he murmured in his heavy Australian accent.

The Dean laughed heartily. "Oh, Nicholas. You and I will become very close companions in the near future," he commented. "If you can tease Maxine like that without getting punched the face…"

I was really close to punching them _both _in the face…

"…then you're in luck! Max is a great person to have on your side."

Fang chuckled, but kept his eyes on me. "Hmm…" he hummed softly, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. I flinched at the sudden examination and felt like the world was getting smaller and smaller, almost suffocating me. "I'll agree to your terms, Mr. Aensland."

Donovan grinned. "Good. Now then, I'll call for the guardians of the Harmonia children and see what we can work out, alright?" He shooed us. "Good day."

"Same t'ya, mate," Fang replied, getting up with a yawn.

I sighed quietly and smacked Fang's shoulder. "That's for squeezing my shoulders all those times, idiot," I muttered.

All I heard was the mix of Fang's laughed infused with his most recent yawn.

Then Donovan sneezed.

I exhaled loudly and wondered what else could go wrong in a single day.

**(end of chapter three)**

I'm so sorry for the late update!

Anyway, here's some notes that I should explain about the characters…

**Morrigan Aensland **– a character from the Capcom video game series, Darkstalkers. In my story, she is one of the many science teachers and Max's aunt.

**Donovan Aensland **– is an original character, though his name (and only his name) is a reference to _Donovan Baine _from the Darkstalkers video game series. In my story, he is the dean of the school and Max's uncle. Morrigan and Donovan are siblings. He's called Donovan, Dono, the Dean and Mr. Aensland if you were confused.

Since this is an AU story, most of the characters from MR have "real names", due to the fact that their names sound more like nicknames rather than first names. Sorry if their names confuse you. If they do, send me a PM/review and I'll make sure to be clearer.

** READ+REVIEW=UPDATES!**

You know I love you all! …Especially when you review!

_I hope I can update soon!_

**Bunny: **_**I HOPE YOU CAN UPDATE SOON, TOO! :D**_

-Sketched Hero

_Special thanks to: _Of course, **Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute** for her beta! Who else? Oh yes, **Anna Ride **for being such a great friend and all of you people who read, review and favorite this story! All of you will not be forgotten. Again, I'm sorry if the next update takes another few months to get out. Thank you again, everyone!


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